The Life We Lead
by cathopes
Summary: Harry's the Boy Who Lived, right? Well, whatever happened to his twin sister, Shay, who is all of the sudden left in the shadows after her brother received his instant fame? Will she be just like Harry? Or will she chose another path?
1. Prologue

**The Life We Lead**

**Summary: Harry's the Boy Who Lived, right? Well, whatever happened to his twin sister, Shay****, who is all of the sudden left in the shadows after her brother received his instant fame? Will she be just like Harry? No, ahem... actually, more like the total opposite...**

**Warnings: If you love the Golden Trio, and hate all Slytherins with a fiery passion, DO NOT READ! Contains heavy bashing of major characters. Including (but not limited to)- Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Dumbledore. Will also have harsh language, drinking, suicidal behaviour, and other dark themes.**

**Author's Note: Just letting everyone know that, while I love Harry and all of the Gryffindors (especially the Marauders), I have a soft spot for the Slytherins. This is going to be a dark story, and slightly AU for the addition of Harry's sister. This will go through all seven books, sometimes skimming the 'early years' other times going really in-depth. This particular chapter is almost an exact copy of the book, but there are differences, too. This will not happen again. Thanks for reading.**

**Disclaimer: Pay attention, this is the only time you will be seeing one of these. I do not own Harry Potter. All I'm doing is mucking around in the universe Rowling created for a little while. I am making no profit from this.**

**Prologue: That Girl with Hazel Eyes**

_...Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the _rumours _that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's finally disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"_

_It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor a women had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe until Dumbledore said it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer._

"_What they're _saying_," she pressed on, "is that last night, Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James Potter_ _are- are- that they're– _dead_."  
_

_Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped._

_"Lily and James ... I can't believe it ... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..."_

_Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know... I know..." he said heavily._

_-Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, P- 12, The Boy Who Lived_

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's children, Harry and Shay. But- he couldn't. When he went to kill Harry, he just couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why or how, but he just couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke- and that's why he's gone."

Following Dumbledore's nod, Professor McGonagall seemed to be at a loss, "It's- it's _true_? After all that he's done... all of the people he's killed... he couldn't kill a little child? It's just astounding... of all of the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Harry, and Shay, for that matter, survive?"

"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took out a watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry and Shay to their aunt and uncle. They're the only family the children have left now."

"You don't mean- you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore- you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son- I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry and Shay Potter come and live here!"

"It's the best place for them," said Dumbledore firmly. "Their aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to the two when they are older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand them! Harry be famous- a legend- I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter Day in future- there will be books written about Harry- every child in our world will know his name!"

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, they'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed and then said, "Yes- yes, you're right, of course. But how are the children getting here Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry and Shay underneath it.

"Hagrid's bringing them."

"You think it- _wise_- to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to- what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky- and a huge motorbike fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

If the motorbike was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of dustbin lids and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast muscular arms he was holding two bundles of blankets. How he could drive a flying motorbike like this was simple- he was so huge, both bundles fit securely, but perhaps not that safely, in only one of his arms.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorbike?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorbike as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got them, sir."

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir- house was almost destroyed but I got 'em out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. Little Harry fell asleep as we were flyin' over Bristol, but his sister is still awake."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the two bundles of blankets. Inside one, a little girl with black hair and hazel eyes looked up at them, a curious expression on her face. The adult's attention was not on her for long, though, because inside the other, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

"Is that where- ?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar for ever."

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in useful. I have one myself above my left knee which is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well- give them here, Hagrid- we'd better get this over with."

Dumbledore took Harry in his arms, while Professor McGonagall took Shay, and turned towards the Dursleys' house.

"Could I- could I say goodbye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall. "You'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it- Lily an' James dead- an' poor little Harry an' Shay off ter live with Muggles-"

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, then took Shay from Professor McGonagall and did the same for her, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundles, more pointedly Harry's; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice. "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall- Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself on to the motorbike and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the two bundles of blankets on the step of number four.

"Good luck, Shay. And good luck, Harry Potter," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak he was gone.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Shay stared up into the night sky above, until she yawned and finally fell asleep. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he and his sister would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley ...He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter- the boy who lived!"

Or, as his sister would one day call him- The Git Who Just Won't Die.


	2. Through the Years

**The Life We Lead**

**Chapter One: Through the Years**

On the street of Privet Drive, all was quiet. The light breeze did not even blow the swings in the playground, or rustle the hedges in the insanely tidy suburban lawns. It was the dead of night, and all of the residents in this ridiculously normal area had no business being awake at two o'clock in the morning, thank you very much. Well, almost normal. As Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley knew, there were two blaring exceptions to this. The Potter twins.

Because Harry and Shay Potter were as far from normal as they could get, as far as the Dursley's were concerned. The pair were complete freaks, hell-bent on destroying their perfection. Yes, in the clean white tablecloth of life, the Potter's were the black stains that needed to be covered up by one of Petunia Dursley's flower arrangements.

Maybe that was why in the room the twins shared, there was a gasp, and Shay Potter sat up in her small, twin sized bed, drenched in a cold sweat. She quickly looked over at her brother, making sure she had not awoken him, before lying back down with a shake of her head. She stared up at the ceiling, trying to shut out the images of the nightmare that had been plaguing her on and off since the start of summer holidays.

She blinked, and tried to think of something happier. The Potter girl smiled humourlessly when she could not remember one such time. Life in general had been a bitch to her, before and after starting Hogwarts. But being the sister of the infamous 'Boy Who Lived' always meant that she would be in the shadows, perhaps that was why her life was the way it was: she had chosen to stand out. She had decided the moment she first heard the story of what her brother did to the Dark Lord that she would not go unnoticed. And that meant being a bit unconventional at times.

"_You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go __making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." Draco Malfoy, a boy with white-blond hair and light silver eyes, addressed Harry, holding out a hand for him to shake. _

"_I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," her brother had replied coolly. _

"_You know what, I'm going with him. If that's okay?" Shay Potter cut in, feeling a nasty comment coming on. Besides, this boy interested her. She was going to form her own opinion about him, not just go along with what her twin said._

_Malfoy nodded quickly, regaining his composure. "At least one Potter isn't blind."_

Shay smiled slightly at the memory, a rare thing for her to do lately. More than likely now it was a smirk. Though the mirth would hardly reach her eyes in a public place. After their initial meeting, the pair (along with Draco's bodyguards: Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, who preferred to go by their surnames) had talked the rest of the train ride. Though it was not just them- Pansy Parkinson, a girl that reminded Shay vaguely of a pug, Theodore Nott, a pale boy with a lanky build (even for an eleven year old), Blaise Zabini, a dark-skinned boy with an Italian accent, and Millicent Bulstrode, a tough-looking girl with a mischievous glint in her eye, had all soon joined them.

Maybe this was where the Potter girl had gone 'wrong', as some would call her. Maybe she should have never taken an offer placed for the great Harry Potter. Or maybe, just maybe, it would have happened regardless. It might have been a bit of destiny, or just a bit of pure luck. Whatever it was, Shay knew that once she had gone out of her brother's compartment, things would never be the same.

_Shay had walked in between Pansy and Millicent, the trio talking excitedly about the sorting ceremony that was to take place in mere moments. Professor McGonagall, the stern-looking Transfiguration teacher, had said that she would be back shortly and then they would begin. Draco, Theo, and Blaise were a little behind them, talking as well. Crabbe and Goyle were back there as well, but Shay had already decided that they didn't really count as actual people. It may have seemed rude, but it was true. They acted too much like hired bodyguards for her to consider them too much._

_Upon arriving in the entry way, she had briefly looked for Harry. He was still with the redhead (Wasn't his name Weasley?) and so she did not go over to talk to him. She would have her friends, he would have his. After all, the boy had appeared to be a bit clueless, which was extremely tiring to deal with. And didn't she get enough dim-witted behaviour from Dudley? Besides, Shay had other things to occupy her mind: Like the resident ghosts who had just arrived and conveniently scared the new students out of their skins._

_After what felt like forever, McGonagall came back for them, and they were marched through the Great Hall. It was hard for Shay to keep herself from gaping at the ceiling, as it was magicked to reflect the outside view. It looked as though it opened up into the heavens, twinkling stars and all. The room was made mostly of stone, like the rest of the castle, and four wooden tables that went from one end of the Hall to the other took up most of the room. In these were all of the returning Hogwarts students. In front of them lay another long table, obviously where the staff sat. _

_The Professor was leading the first years in this direction, and for an awful moment Shay thought that they would be sorted by the Heads of House's themselves. But this was not the case, as she soon noticed that directly in front of them... was a dirty, patched hat on a stool? As she looked at it, she briefly wondered what her Aunt Petunia would do if she saw it, and this made her see a funny image of Petunia approaching it with gloved hands and disinfectant spray._

_Then, to the shock of all of the first years, the old hat began to sing. Shay watched, mesmerized, as it sang of the four Hogwarts Houses, and their founders. The eleven-year-old didn't really have a preference, when the song had ended, she just didn't want to be in Hufflepuff. That House seemed way too happy-go-lucky for her liking. Gryffindor didn't sound too bad, what was wrong with being brave? Though she did not think she was all that courageous, that was her brother's forte. So Ravenclaw, the House of intelligence, or Slytherin, House of the cunning, was were she was most-likely to be placed. _

"_When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," Professor McGonagall announced, once they had reached the front of the Great Hall. All eyes were on the group of nervous-looking first years. Though some- mostly the older students and professors- seemed to be looking for someone in particular. It wasn't hard to figure out who, Shay thought. The famous Boy Who Lived is bound to be expected. _

_As the students were called up, she realized that all of the kids she had been on the train with were being sorted into Slytherin. The only person, besides herself, yet to join them was Blaise, who would most-likely be the last to join a House. Soon, however, her brother was called, "Potter, Harry."_

_It took about a minute for him to be sorted. Which was quite long, compared to people like Draco, who only had the Hat on for a few seconds before getting a House. And Shay was not at all surprised when the Hat shouted that he was to be in Gryffindor. What else would the saviour of the wizarding world be in? The applause was just a bit too loud, though, and a pair of redheads were shouting, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"_

_When the noise died down, the professor called, "Potter, Shay."_

_The eleven-year-old in question swallowed, and Blaise squeezed her hand in encouragement. She approached the stool with her head held high, and soon sat down. Everyone in the Hall was looking at her expectantly, as if judging how like her brother she was. McGonagall put the ragged hat on her head then, it went down over her eyes. She wondered what she was supposed to do now, when a voice spoke inside her head._

"_Not very much like your brother at all, are you?" The Hat inquired._

"_Why does everyone have to compare me to him?" She snapped in the mind. The Hat chuckled._

"_Hmm, you wish to prove yourself, I see. To be noticed. No, don't worry, I won't put you in Hufflepuff, you are much too assertive. No, Gryffindor is not for you, either... You're too smart to do some of their stunts. What about Ravenclaw? You have a good mind for it... but no, intelligence is not your main trait... better be... SLYTHERIN!" _

_Shay sighed with relief, and went over to sit by Millicent. She did not see the disappointment and shock in most of the professors' faces as she did so. Nor did she hear the gasps from some of the students. She did, however, see the smug expressions on her House mates' general appearance. _

Now, four years later, the fifteen-year-old was still dealing with the comparisons that seemed to follow her every time she entered a part of the wizarding world. Perhaps this was why she had grown to practically hate her own brother. They hadn't had a civil conversation since their second year, when they had both found out that they were parselmouths. To Shay, it had been a gift, but Harry had thought it a curse. What was so wrong with being able to talk to snakes? _Because Slytherin could do it, the Dark Lord, too, that's why_, she thought.

Harry's never-ending battle with the Dark Lord Voldemort tired the young woman to no end. Why did he feel the need to be so chivalrous? It was not his battle, but over the years he had made it out to be. What good did it do? According to Harry and Dumbledore (if they were to be believed), Voldemort had come back, yet again, killing seventh year Cedric Diggory in the process.

Her brother seemed to be the president of the 'I love Albus Dumbledore' club. Headmaster Dumbledore, in turn, went above and beyond to make sure that Harry was all right. Not to mention- that his Golden Boy didn't get into trouble. Merlin forbid he actually be _punished_ for going into the third floor corridor that was supposed to be off-limits, for going into the Chamber of Secrets, for setting Sirius Black free, or for getting his name put in the Goblet of Fire, even though he was under-age, plus all of the minor offences. If anyone else had done all of these things, they would probably be _expelled_. Not the famous Harry Potter, though. He gets commended and a nice pat on the back.

Sighing, Shay pulled out the letter that was on her night stand. It was from Draco, inviting her to stay at Malfoy Manor for the remainder of the summer. He knew she hated the muggles she lived with, and it was no secret at Hogwarts that the Potter twins did not get along. They were opposites, down to their very Houses. Harry was the brave, noble, honest one, but he was also the one that could be found saying 'woe is me' in a bad situation. Shay had a naturally cold demeanour to those she did not know well, she was also sarcastic, and had a devilish streak about her. Draco had, on a few occasions, jokingly, called her a 'sneaky little vixen'. Shay didn't mind, though, or the laughter that followed at her expense the first time he did so. She kind of liked the idea.

The reply to Draco's letter had yet to be sent. She had a slight suspicion that she would not be able to go, though she did not know the reason for this. Shay had received the letter only two days ago, so there was still plenty of time to accept. Daphne Greengrass, a fellow Slytherin and a good friend of Shay's, had also sent her a letter that had arrived yesterday. _I'll have to ask Harry if I can use Hedwig when she gets back,_ she noted mentally. The owl had gone hunting, so she would hopefully be back soon.

Shay Potter turned over in her bed, facing the wall, and then drifted off in an uneasy sleep. Both Potter twins tossed and turned all night, their dreams haunting them in their sleep. Yes, the pair were very different, but they were also much the same.


End file.
